


The Worst Day Ever

by Never laugh at a live Sherlock (smaugholmeswatson)



Category: Limitless (TV), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crossover, Gen, One Shot, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-06-06 18:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6765550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaugholmeswatson/pseuds/Never%20laugh%20at%20a%20live%20Sherlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>This is what happens when I am bored in class. I write random crossovers. Sherlock Holmes meets Brian Finch.<br/>Who knows this might even expand into a full story.<br/>Despite what the little green tick shows this is no-where near complete at the moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The third Monday of August started off well enough. Brian Finch woke up, went off to his job as a consultant for the CJC and helped them catch a dangerous criminal running around New York. All in all an ordinary, successful day in his life. And because he had done such a good job sifting through the mountain of transcripts Naz had given him the rest of the afternoon off...well Brian gave Mike and Ike the slip and left before he got roped into doing any more little jobs but he didn't really feel it was important. He was free and that was all that really mattered. 

Outside the sun was scorching and it was simply too nice to be stuck indoors working. Did Brian feel a little guilty for leaving Rebecca in a dull meeting? Sure, maybe a little but he could hear the local Ice-cream trucks calling his name. He was sure he could probably make it up to her later. New York in the height of Summer was, as always, seething with people; each of them utterly focused on their individual lives and oblivious to Brian as he strolled amongst them. While on NZT it was always fascinating how much more he was able to see and hear, everything from people having affairs to one guy who looked like he was taking part in an information handover in an old fashioned spy movie. He even wore the mirrored sunglasses! Finding a quiet shady patch beneath a nearby tree Brian settled down to watch him for a while. To his disappointment nothing happened and, after finishing his Ice-cream which was beginning to melt in the heat, he decided to go home to his apartment. 

Brian Finch stared at the guy standing before him. Damn, this guy was arrogant! It wasn't just in the way he was standing; it was also present in the blue eyes that were regarding him critically as the guy slowly and professionally picked him apart. 

"Who the hell are you?" Brian asked, trying to pinpoint him from the FBI files he had browsed through. He couldn't remember ever having come across him. Which meant this guy was A: not a criminal, or B: not an American Citizen. Currently Brian's bet was on both of those. Nothing about the guy screamed 'lawbreaker' and his accent definitely hinted of a life spent over the water in England. 

The guy tipped his head to one side and regarded him intently. Brian shifted, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. "You are dependent on drugs, but not the sort you can easily pick up on the street; something much rarer. A risk taker and prepared to bend the rules to get what you want." He said in a deep voice with the tone of a doctor making a major diagnosis. "Fiercely loyal to your friends and yet incredibly irritating to those friends at the same time. Apparently a man of few words." The guy finished his speech and crossed his arms as he waited for Brian to reply. 

Brian felt his head begin to throb, despite the NZT currently running through his veins. With a single glance this guy had described him perfectly, even picking up on the NZT. Who the hell was this guy? Hang on... "Incredibly annoying to get along with?!" That wasn't true at all! Everybody loved him! 

"Man of few words!? You haven't let me get a word in edgeways!" Brian protested, glancing over at his mobile sitting on the table by the door. He was surprised no-one had tried ringing him, surely Mike and Ike would have flagged up he was missing by now. Why hadn't Rebecca called to check up on him? If Brian was being honest with himself he was actually a little disappointed. "And what the hell are you doing in my apartment?" He demanded. Behind the blue eyes Brian was able to sense an exceptionally high level of intelligence. 

From over by the door leading into the living room there came a light laugh. "Oh he's always like that, you soon get used to it though." 

Brian spun round with a small curse. He had been so preoccupied on the guy in front of him he had forgotten to check for other intruders! Rookie mistake. He would never hear the end of it if the others found out. Maybe it was actually a good thing after all no-one had noticed he'd skipped out on work today. At least the second guy was shorter, but the fierce look in his eyes suggested that taking him on would be a terrible idea. There was also a hint of prior, or even current military service in the way he held himself. When he walked forward with his hand outstretched Brian felt compelled to shake it. Besides the last thing he wanted to do was cause offence- two against one wasn't the greatest of odds. Even with the advantage NZT would give him he doubted he would stand a chance. 

"John Watson. That arrogant prick over there is Sherlock Holmes." The second guy said, breaking off the handshake. 

Brian frowned. Those names rang a bell; a very loud bell. But he was unable to remember exactly where he had heard them before. Concentrating he rapidly went through the week's headlines in his head. Nothing immediately jumped out of him. He tried flipping through the rest of the news. Still nothing. So these guys had not been in the American news. 

Wait...Brian backtracked slightly. The guys had British accents. Jesus Bri, what the hell is wrong with you today? Still that revelation didn't help him all that much he hadn't seen any British news this week. He became aware the two guys were watching him intently. Whoops, they'd probably been waiting for him to reply. "Sorry, I'm Brian Finch." 

The shorter of the two, the one who'd introduced himself as John Watson, looked a little bemused. "You had the same look on your face there as Sherlock goes when he goes to his mind palace. Please don't tell me you another one like him." 

Brian opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a loud snort from Sherlock. "Hardly. Mr Finch relies on an artificial stimulant for his intelligence. One which fades if he doesn't constantly take the stimulant every day." He said with a defiant hint of smugness to his voice. 

Brian ground his teeth together, resisting the urge to lash out irrationally. How the hell did John Watson put up with this guy? He must have the patience of a saint...hang on a second. An icy chill oozed slowly down Brian's spine. How did Sherlock, a total stranger and a visitor to America, know about NZT? Could Sherlock be on the drug himself? His high intelligence seemed to suggest it but Brian suspected that Sherlock had always been that way. Somehow he needed to find out exactly what was going on. At least that way he'd stand a chance of controlling it. "What do you want with me? It's obviously something or you wouldn't be in my apartment." Brian asked, forcing himself to remain calm. 

Clearing his throat loudly Sherlock stuck his hands in the pockets of his long woollen coat and began pacing across the front room. "This stimulant you take...I need to know who supplies it to you. There's a serial killer running about who has been taking it." 

Brian knew all about this guy. The FBI had put him on the case recently with instructions to hunt the killer down before he murdered anyone else. That had been a week and two victims ago. A serial killer on NZT was proving impossible to catch a glimpse of, let alone catch. Whoops, while he'd been thinking Sherlock had carried on talking. Brian hastily mentally rewound what Sherlock had just said. "Woah, hold up." He said, holding up a hand to stop Sherlock saying anything else. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. "You know the serial killer!?" 

"Jim Moriarty. He has been something of an annoyance to us." Sherlock stated calmly in a voice carefully devoid of emotion. "A self styled consulting criminal who has decided to call himself ,'The Napolean of Crime'." 

John Watson shook his head, an incredulous expression on his face as he stared at Sherlock. Though Brian could sense the deep affection John had for his friend there was an incredible amount of anger radiating off him right this moment. 'These two must share an interesting history', Brian thought to himself. Right now he didn't think either of them were in the mood to share. "Moriarty has tried to kill you twice last time I counted. I'd say that qualifies him as more than just a slight annoyance!" John snapped, his fists clenching. 

All of a sudden a lightbulb clicked on in Brian's mind and let out an exclamation. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the strange look John gave him. Of course, that was where he knew the name from! Even here in America Sherlock Holmes and his famous exploits were well known. At one point he was heavily involved in saving the American president from an assasination attempt. How on earth could he have forgotten about him? Brian shook his head at himself. Man, he'd even regularly been a reader of John Watson' blog... maybe the NZT was already wearing off. No, that couldn't be it. He was still supposed to have another eight hours or so left. 

Sherlock ignored Brian completely and instead smirked at John. "You really should have more faith in me John." There was a faint arrogance behind the words, from what Brian could remember this was hardly uncommon. "I have beaten Moriarty before and I will easily be able to beat him again." 

While Brian didn't doubt for a moment that Sherlock could defeat the serial killer there was the added uncertainty of NZT being added to the mix. At the moment, until the dosage wore off, Moriarty was a highly dangerous individual cabable of anything. Not that the detective would listen to reason. There was a peculiar look in Sherlock's eye, a hungry obsessive type of look. Brian got the feeling that Moriarty had gone beyond the boundaries of an enemy and had become a personal vendetta for Sherlock. Such things could be incredibly dangerous for everyone involved. Obsessions more often than not ended up with someone getting hurt or even killed. Brian really hoped it didn't come to that. 


	2. Chapter 2

It took more effort than it should have for Brian to open his eyes. Bright light blinded him and his head began to pound unpleasantly. Since he had been unconscious the world had lost the bright glow of NZT and was once more dull and grey. His thoughts felt sluggish and slow when he tried to make sense of what had happened over the past eight hours. The last memory he had was of Sherlock and John leaving his appartment. After then there was nothing but a jolt of intense pain and then darkness. 


End file.
